In Darkest England and the Way Out Part 26

The Criminal Homes and Prison Gate Operations would require continued help, but not a very great deal. Then, the work in the Slums is somewhat expensive. The eighty young women at present engaged in it cost on an average 12s. per week each for personal maintenance, inclusive of clothes and other little matters, and there are expenses for Halls and some little relief which cannot in anyway be avoided, bringing our present annual Slum outlay to over #4,000. But the poor people amongst whom they work notwithstanding their extreme poverty, are already contributing over #1,000 per annum towards this amount, which income will increase. Still as by this Scheme we propose to add at once a hundred to the number already engaged, money will be required to keep th is department going.

The Inebriate Home, I calculate, will maintain itself. All its inmates will have to engage in some kind of remunerative labour, and we calculate, in addition, upon receiving money with a considerable number of those availing themselves of its benefits. But to practically a.s.sist the half-million slaves of the cup we must have money not only to launch out but to keep our operations going.

The Food Depots, once fitted up, pay their own working expenses.

The Emigration, Advice, and Inquiry Bureaux must maintain themselves or nearly so. The Labour Shops, Anti-Sweating, and other similar operations will without question require money to make ends meet.

But on the whole, a very small sum of money, in proportion to the immense amount of work done, will enable us to accomplish a vast deal of good.

THE FARM COLONY FROM A FINANCIAL POINT OF VIEW.

Let us now turn to the Farm Colony, and consider it from a monetary standpoint. Here also a certain amount of money will have to be expended at the outset; some of the chief items of which will be the purchase of land, the erection of buildings, the supply of stock, and the production of first crops. There is an abundance of land in the market, at the present time, at very low prices. It is rather important for the initial experiment that an estate should be obtained not too far from London, with land suitable for immediate cultivation.

Such an estate would beyond question be expensive. After a time, I have no doubt, we shall be able to deal with land of almost any quality (and that in almost any part of the country), in consequence of the superabundance of labour we shall possess. There is no question if the scheme goes forward, but that estates will be required in connection with all our large towns and cities. I am not without hope that a sufficient quant.i.ty of land will be given, or, in any way, sold to us on very favourable terms.

When acquired and stocked, it is calculated that this land, if cultivated by spade husbandry, will support at least two persons per acre. The ordinary reckoning of those who have had experience with allotments gives five persons to three acres.

But, even supposing that this calculation is a little too sanguine, we can still reckon a farm of 500 acres supporting, without any outside a.s.sistance, say, 750 persons. But, in this Scheme, we should have many advantages not possessed by the simple peasant, such as those resulting from combination, market gardening, and the other forms of cultivation already referred to, and thus we should want to place two or three times this number on that quant.i.ty of land.

By a combination of City and Town Colonies, there will be a market for at least a large portion of the products. At the rate of our present consumption in the London Food Depots and Homes for the Dest.i.tute alone, at least 50 acres would be required for potatoes alone, and every additional Colonist would be an additional consumer.

There will be no rent to pay, as it is proposed to buy the land right out. In the event of a great rush being made for the allotment's spoken of, further land might be rented, with option of purchase.

Of course, the continuous change of labourers would tell against the profitableness of the undertaking. But this would be proportionally beneficial to the country, seeing that everyone who pa.s.ses through the inst.i.tution with credit makes one less in the helpless crowd.

The rent of Cottages and Allotments would const.i.tute a small return, and at least pay interest on the money invested in them.

The labour spent upon the Colony would be constantly increasing its money value. Cottages would be built, orchards planted, land enriched, factories run up, warehouses erected, while other improvements would be continually going forward. All the labour and a large part of the material would be provided by the Colonists themselves.

It may be suggested that the worker would nave to be maintained during the progress of these erections and manufactures, the cost of which would in itself amount to a considerable sum. Truer and for this the first outlay would be required. But after this every cottage erected, every road made, in short every structure and improvement, would be a means of carrying forward the regenerating process, and in many cases it is expected will become a source of income.

As the Scheme progresses, it is not irrational to expect that Government, or some of the varied Local Authorities, will a.s.sist in the working out of a plan which, in so marked a manner, will relieve the rates and taxes or the country.

The salaries of Officers would be in keeping with those given in the Salvation Army, which are very low.

No wages would be paid to Colonists, as has been described, beyond pocket money and a trifle for extra service.

Although no permanent invalid would be knowingly taken into the Colonies, it is fair to a.s.sume that there will be a certain number, and also a considerable residuum of naturally indolent, half-witted people, incapable of improvement, left upon our hands. Still, it is thought that with reformed habits, variety of employment, and careful oversight, such may be made to earn their own maintenance, at least, especially when it is borne in mind that unless they work, so far as they have ability, they cannot remain in the Colony.

If the Household Salvage Scheme which has been explained in Chapter II.

proves the success we antic.i.p.ate, there can be no question that great financial a.s.sistance will be rendered by it to the entire scheme when once the whole thing has been brought into working order.

THE FINANCIAL ASPECT OF THE COLONY OVER-SEA.

Let us now turn to the Colony Over-Sea, and regard it also from the financial standpoint. Here we must occupy ourselves chiefly with the preliminary outlay, as we could not for a moment contemplate having to find money to a.s.sist it when once fairly established. The initial expense will, no doubt, be somewhat heavy, but not beyond a reasonable amount.

The land required would probably be given, whether we go to Africa, Canada, or elsewhere; anyway, it would be acquired on such easy terms as would be a near approach to a gift.

A considerable sum would certainly be necessary for effecting the first settlements. There would be temporary buildings to erect, land to break up and crop; stock, farm implements, and furniture to purchase, and other similar expenses. But this would not be undertaken on a large scale, as we should rely, to some extent, on the successive batches of Colonists more or less providing for themselves, and in this respect working out their own salvation.

The amount advanced for pa.s.sages, outfit money, and settlement would be repaid by instalments by the Colonists, which would in turn serve to pay the cost of conveying others to the same destination.

Pa.s.sage and outfit money would, no doubt, continue to be some difficulty. #8 per head, say to Africa--#5 pa.s.sage money, and #3 for the journey across the country--is a large sum when a considerable number are involved; and I am afraid no Colony would be reached at a much lower rate. But I am not without hope that the Government might a.s.sist us in this direction.

Taking up the entire question, that is of the three Colonies, we are satisfied that the sum named will suffice to set to work an agency which will probably rescue from lives of degradation and immorality an immense number of people, and that an income of something like #30,000 will keep it afloat. But supposing that a much larger amount should be required, by operations greatly in advance of those here spoken of, which we think exceedingly probable, it is not unreasonable to expect that it will be forthcoming, seeing that caring for the poor is not only a duty of universal obligation, a root principle of all religion, but an instinct of humanity not likely to be abolished in our time.

We are not opposed to charity as such, but to the mode of its administration, which, instead of permanently relieving, only demoralises and plunges the recipients lower in the mire, and so defeats its own purpose.

"What!" I think I hear some say, "a million sterling! how can any man out of Bedlam dream of raising such a sum?" Stop a little! A million may be a great deal to pay for a diamond or a palace, but it is a mere trifle compared with the sums which Britain lavishes whenever Britons are in need of deliverance if they happen to be imprisoned abroad.

The King of Ashantee had captive some British subjects--not even of English birth--in 1869. John Bull despatched General Wolseley with the pick of the British army, who smashed Koffee Kalkallee, liberated the captives, and burnt Cooma.s.sie, and never winced when the bill came in for #750,000. But that was a mere trifle. When King Theodore, of Abyssinia, made captives of a couple of British representatives, Lord Napier was despatched to rescue. He marched his army to Magdala, brought back the prisoners, and left King Theodore dead.

The cost of that expedition was over nine millions sterling.

The Egyptian Campaign, that smashed Arabi, cost nearly five millions.

The rush to Khartoum, that arrived too late to rescue General Gordon, cost at least as much. The Afghan war cost twenty-one millions sterling. Who dares then to say that Britain cannot provide a million sterling to rescue, not one or two captives, but a million, whose lot is quite as doleful as that of the prisoners of savage kings, but who are to be found, not in the land of the Soudan, or in the swamps of Ashantee, or in the Mountains of the Moon, but here at our very doors?

Don't talk to me about the impossibility of raising the million.

Nothing is impossible when Britain is in earnest. All talk of impossibility only means that you don't believe that the nation cares to enter upon a serious campaign against the enemy at our gates.

When John Bull goes to the wars he does not count the cost. And who dare deny that the time has fully come for a declaration of war against the Social Evils which seem to shut out G.o.d from this our world?

SECTION 3.--SOME ADVANTAGES STATED.

This Scheme takes into its embrace all kinds and cla.s.ses of men who may be in dest.i.tute circ.u.mstances, irrespective of their character or conduct, and charges itself with supplying at once their temporal needs; and then aims at placing them in a permanent position of comparative comfort, the only stipulation made being a willingness to work and to conform to discipline on the part of those receiving its benefit.

While at the commencement, we must impose some limits with respect to age and sickness, we hope, when fairly at work, to be able to dispense with even these restrictions, and to receive any unfortunate individual who has only his misery to recommend him and an honest desire to get out of it.

It will be seen that, in this respect, the Scheme stands head and shoulders above any plan that has ever been mooted before, seeing that nearly all the other charitable and remedial proposals more or less confess their utter inability to benefit any but what they term the "decent" working man.

This Scheme seeks out by all manner of agencies, marvellously adapted for the task, the cla.s.ses whose welfare it contemplates, and, by varied measures and motives adapted to their circ.u.mstances, compels them to accept its benefits.

Our Plan contemplates nothing short of revolutionising the character of those whose faults are the reason for their dest.i.tution. We have seen that with fully fifty per cent. of these their own evil conduct is the cause of their wretchedness. To stop short with them of anything less than a real change of heart will be to invite and ensure failure.

But this we are confident of effecting--anyway, in the great majority of cases, by reasonings and persuasions, concerning both earthly and heavenly advantages, by the power of man, and by the power of G.o.d.

By this Scheme any man, no matter how deeply he may have fallen in self-respect and the esteem of all about him, may re-enter life afresh, with the prospect of re-establis.h.i.+ng his character when lost, or perhaps of establis.h.i.+ng a character for the first time, and so obtaining an introduction to decent employment, and a claim for admission into Society as a good citizen. While many of this crowd are absolutely without a decent friend, others will have, on that higher level of respectability they once occupied, some relative, or friend, or employer, who occasionally thinks of them, and who, if only satisfied that a real change has taken place in the prodigal, will not only be willing, but delighted, to help them once more.

By this Scheme, we believe we shall be able to teach habits of economy, household management, thrift, and the like. There are numbers of men who, although suffering the direst pangs of poverty, know little or nothing about the value of money, or the prudent use of it; and there are hundreds of poor women who do not know what a decently-managed home is, and who could not make one if they had the most ample means and tried ever so hard to accomplish it, having never seen anything but dirt, disorder, and misery in their domestic history. They could not cook a dinner or prepare a meal decently if their lives were dependent on it, never having had a chance of learning how to do it. But by this Scheme hope to teach these things.

By this Plan, habits of cleanliness will be created, and some knowledge of sanitary questions in general will be imparted.

This Scheme changes the circ.u.mstances of those whose poverty is caused by their misfortune. To begin with, it finds work for the unemployed.

This is the chief need. The great problem that has for ages been puzzling the brains of the political economist and philanthropist has been "How can we find these people work?" No matter what other helps are discovered, without work there is no real ground for hope.

Charity and all the other ten thousand devices are only temporary expedients, altogether insufficient to meet the necessity. Work, apart from the fact that it is G.o.d's method of supplying the wants of man's composite nature, is an essential to his well-being in every way-- and on this Plan there is work, honourable work--none of your demoralising stone-breaking, or oak.u.m-picking business, which tantalises and insults poverty, Every worker will feel that he is not only occupied for his own benefit, but that any advantage reaped over and above that which he gains himself will serve to lift some other poor wretch out of the gutter.

There would be work within the capacity of all. Every gift could be employed. For instance, take five persons on the Farm--a baker, a tailor, a shoemaker, a cook, and an agriculturist. The baker would make bread for all, the tailor garments for all, the shoemaker shoes for all, the cook would cook for all, and the agriculturist dig for all.

Those who know anything which would be useful to the inhabitants of the Colony will be set to do it, and those who are ignorant of any trade or profession will be taught one.

This Scheme removes the vicious and criminal cla.s.ses out of the sphere of those temptations before which they have invariably fallen in the past. Our experience goes to show that when you have, by Divine grace, or by any consideration of the advantages of a good life, or the disadvantages of a bad one, produced in a man circ.u.mstanced as those whom we have been describing, the resolution to turn over a new leaf, the temptations and difficulties he has to encounter will ordinarily master him, and undo all that has been done, if he still continues to be surrounded by old companions and allurements to sin.

Now, look at the force of the temptations this cla.s.s has to fight against. What is it that leads people to do wrong--people of all cla.s.ses, rich as well as poor? Not the desire to sin. They do not want to sin; many of them do not know what sin is, but they have certain appet.i.tes or natural likings, the indulgence of which is pleasant to them, and when the desire for their unlawful gratification is aroused, regardless of the claims of G.o.d, their own highest interests, or the well-being of their fellows, they are carried away by them; and thus all the good resolutions they have made in the past come to grief.

For instance, take the temptation which comes through the natural appet.i.te, hunger. Here is a man who has been at a religious meeting, or received some good advice, or, perhaps, just come out of prison, with the memories of the hards.h.i.+ps he has suffered fresh upon him, or the advice of the chaplain ringing in his ears. He has made up his mind to steal no more, but he has no means of earning a livelihood.

He becomes hungry. What is he to do? A loaf of bread tempts him, or, more likely, a gold chain which he can turn into bread. An inward struggle commences, he tries to stick to his bargain, but the hunger goes on gnawing within, and it may be there is a wife and children hungry as well as himself; so he yields to the temptation, takes the chain, and in turn the policeman takes him.

Now this man does not want to do wrong, and still less does he want to go to prison. In a sincere, dreamy way he desires to be good, and if the path were easier for him he would probably walk in it.

Again, there is the appet.i.te for drink. That man has no thought of sinning when he takes his first gla.s.s. Much less does he want to get drunk. He may have still a vivid recollection of the unpleasant consequences that followed his last spree, but the craving is on him; the public-house is there handy; his companions press him; he yields, and falls, and, perhaps, falls to rise no more.